


Holding Her Heart

by Gryffindancer



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Deaf Clint Barton, F/M, Hand & Finger Kink, Sign Language, musings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 04:21:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4421135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryffindancer/pseuds/Gryffindancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy's musings on her favorite part of Clint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Her Heart

Darcy was in love with his hands. Like true, fairytale romance kind of love with his hands. And she knew he would never understand. All he saw was the blood that dripped from them; An occupational hazard she figured.

She knew it was a little weird, but she couldn't help herself. His hands were truly beautiful things. With their wide palms and long, calloused fingers that were built for plucking a bowstring.

The backs of his hands were tanned just slightly, and had a light dusting of golden hair that graduated into the slightly thicker hair of his muscled forearms. And she knew that he always kept his fingernails perfectly clean and trimmed. A throwback to his army days, she supposed, but it added to the simple beauty of his hands.

She was in love with the way he used them as well. She would watch, mesmerized, as he released arrow after arrow. She found his black leather archery glove that fit over three of his fingers and attached around his wrist to be incredibly sexy (and she occasionally wondered if even something that simple counted as leather kink).

She adored the feel of his hands digging and kneading into her tight muscles, massaging the tension out of her back after a long and stressful day. Digits pressing into the knotted bands of flesh to unravel them until she had nearly melted beneath him.

She was fascinated when he used his hands to speak. Usually to Natasha, but he had taught her the occasional word or phrase as well. He didn't use sign language often, but when he did she was mesmerized by the shapes and intent of words that danced on his fingertips.

And she was absolutely overcome by the sensation of his hands coaxing her to her peak. Fingers pistoning in and out of her slick cunt, and curling them just so, to hit that spot inside of her that always made her come undone.

But even more, she loved his hands that would stroke her face as she came. His nails that would scrape lightly against her scalp when he ran his fingers through her hair and held her close in the after glow. Hands that were proud to hold hers in public. Hands that he pressed to her lower back when they walked together; As if he could protect her from all the evils in the world with such a simple gesture of contact.

His hands were strong, and hard-working. They were loving and tender. She felt, sometimes, as if they had plucked her heart straight from her chest and held it like a trophy.

Darcy was as in love with Clint's hands as she was with him. And finally - with her thumb, pinky, and index fingers extended, while her ring and middle fingers curled down to her palm - she found a way to tell him.


End file.
